Then Leave

19th Episode

Clemente Oris, the Minister of Intelligence for the Labor Kingdom, walked towards the conference hall provided by the Phraus Holy Kingdom, his brow furrowed in displeasure.

‘That Barmut, Barmut. I’m sick to death of him.’

In truth, his mood had soured the moment he departed the Labor Kingdom.

The First Prince, now officially Crown Prince Siegfried Labor, had sought him out with earnest pleas.

Never, under any circumstances, was he to confront Minister Barmut.

Unless the matter threatened the Kingdom’s well-being, he was to agree with his every word, without exception.

‘I am the Minister of Intelligence for an entire nation! Barmut may be skilled, but he’s still only human, surely no better than the rest. Yet both the previous Minister and now His Highness the Crown Prince…!’

Clemente, newly appointed as the Kingdom’s Minister of Intelligence through office politics, connections, support, and vast sums of money, was displeased with everything.

Numerous Ministers of Intelligence existed across the continent, but when asked to name someone who embodied the position, everyone invariably chose Erwin Barmut.

His name, it had become synonymous with ‘Minister of Intelligence’ itself.

‘Rumors are prone to exaggeration. I’ll peel away this gilded lie completely, today!’

Those were Clemente, the new Minister – about to be pulverized by Erwin within the first two minutes of the meeting –’s last, most audacious moments.

—

“Then, let us begin the inaugural World Congress of Intelligence Ministers. After reviewing the documents provided beforehand by the Empire, should anyone have comments, please do not hesitate to raise your hand and speak.”

With those words from Saintess Pauch, who was chairing the meeting, it began.

Ah, I’m nervous.

Can I truly hold my own amongst these seasoned ministers?

No, I don’t aim to *excel*. I only pray that I don’t bring shame upon the Empire.

The meeting started with everyone seemingly absorbed in deciphering the information provided by the Empire’s Intelligence Bureau. The only sound was the rustling of paper.

Then, someone quickly flipped through the documents, making a *shush* sound, and raised their hand to request the floor.

“Yes, Minister Clemente Oris of the Labor Kingdom. Please proceed.”

The Labor Kingdom… that’s Prince Siegfried’s country.

Feeling a sudden familiarity amidst my nervousness – these were all faces I’d never seen before – I turned my head, only to find Minister Oris glaring at me for some inexplicable reason.

What? Did I do something wrong?

“Thank you, Saintess Pauch. Then, I shall speak. I implore you all to listen carefully. All of this is a deception by the Empire’s Intelligence Bureau!”

Huh? A deception?

What on earth is Minister Oris talking about?

A sense of unease washing over me, I fidgeted with my fingers, giving careful ear to his words.

“This secret society called ‘Oracle’ never existed in the first place! The Empire fabricated this dark organization to sow fear, and then summoned us here. To create a pretext for meddling in other nations’ affairs!”

Minister Oris spread his arms wide, as if expecting applause, but sadly, no one responded.

It’d be awkward if he just stood there, so I suppose I should at least give him a clap.

“Hmph, what is this, Minister Barmut? Are you admitting that what I say is correct?”

Sorry, but that’s a little much.

Hmm… what to do? It seems they wouldn’t believe me even if I said I saw them with my own eyes.

After a moment of thought, I gave him a smile meant to foster a sense of connection, and spoke to him.

“So, to rephrase, Minister Oris doesn’t trust the Empire?”

“Isn’t that obvious? There’s no reason to trust them in the fi–”

“Then you can leave.”

“Pardon…?”

He hadn’t even bothered to read the briefing documents, displaying a strangely aggressive demeanor, as if he’d been against attending this summit from the very start.

I understood the sentiment. There were more than a few times, working for Intelligence, that I desperately wanted to flee these kinds of gatherings.

So, I should assist Minister Oris here.

“Those gathered here all acknowledge the existence of the Oracle organization and believe they pose a threat to the world. If anyone disagrees, they are not obliged to remain.”

It’s alright. Disagreement is possible.

He probably came all this way only because his country insisted, a duty he couldn’t avoid.

I know all too well the agony of being forced to do what you don’t want.

“Are you… are you suggesting we dismiss the Kingdom of Labor?”

“Dismiss? Hardly. Simply stating that if one’s convictions differ, there’s no need for forced collaboration.”

Since the subject arose, I figured I might as well help the other ministers who had been dragged here against their will. I scanned the room and spoke.

“The same applies to everyone. There is no obligation to participate in this summit. If you do not agree, you are free to leave. With the lines between friend and foe so blurred, that might even be preferable.”

It’s only natural; not all the nations represented here are on good terms.

Some were at war with each other until recently, while others call each other fraternal allies.

Discussions are best had between like-minded individuals. There’s no point in fighting in a tense atmosphere.

“Now, before we formally begin this summit, I would ask that those who wish to leave kindly do so.”

—

None of the ministers gathered in the grand hall stirred.

Minister Oris, the one who had brought about this situation, was barely breathing.

Minister Barmut had said the lines between friend and foe were blurred.

Meaning there was no telling which nation might be collaborating with Oracle.

Then he added:

It might be preferable if they just left.

In other words, any nation whose minister departed at this moment would be branded a “clear” enemy of the Empire.

‘Erwin Barmut, indeed. Using that idiot’s words as leverage, he’s fostering the impression that anyone who questions the Empire is siding with the enemy.’

The seasoned ministers couldn’t help but admire it.

‘Remarkable! So *this* is the Iron-Blooded Minister…!’

The less experienced ministers, in comparison, expressed awe mingled with fear.

It was unavoidable, given that typically only a king, emperor, or crown prince—not a mere minister—could arbitrarily designate a nation as an enemy.

To become an enemy implies the possibility of war.

For a single minister to single out a nation as an enemy was unprecedented, even in the annals of history.

Only one man. Excepting Erwin Warmut, that is.

‘I knew he held the Emperor’s absolute trust, but to this *extent*?’

The ministers gathered there had to readjust their perceptions in that instant.

Minister Warmut’s words were not those of a man holding equal station with them.

His words *were* the Emperor’s own.

“I, I….”

Minister Oris’s body wouldn’t cease its cold sweat. He understood, only now, what he had done.

The moment he walked out of here, the Empire and Lavor would become enemies.

The current of peace, so carefully cultivated even by sending Crown Prince Siegfried himself, would vanish, no matter what ulterior motives there may have been, and in the worst case, war could erupt.

Between the two most immense and powerful nations in the world.

War.

Because of one foolish word of his.

“I, I apologize, Minister Warmut! I, I dared to, uh, *slip* up…!”

“Slip up? I don’t think so. As I said, you’re welcome to leave if you desire.”

“Ah, no! Certainly not!”

As if fearing they’d drag him out by force, Minister Oris hastily took his seat, then began chiding the stern Oracle Pauch.

“U-Um, let us begin the conference at once!”

“…It already has?”

“T-Then, let us *resume* it, shall we!”

Oracle Pauch, face rather sour, nodded at Minister Oris’s words – one might say he was on the verge of tears, or perhaps already weeping inwardly.

“Yes, well, we shall. Does anyone else wish to speak?”

The conference progressed actively.

For the most part, the ministers from other nations, having read the materials, directed their questions toward Erwin, who answered without hesitation, not forgetting to stoke their apprehension towards Oracle at the same time.

“＜The Wraith of the Black Marsh＞ and ＜Thunder Dragon＞. These are the two confirmed individuals who we presume to be executive level, but I believe there are others who are no less formidable included.”

Even the former two were well-known figures, in both good and bad senses, and in numerous ways.

A single one of them could be considered the head of a respectable organization, and if those of such caliber were gathered in droves, that would mean they were a group with power that could not be ignored.

Because of that, several treaties were concluded that day.

Setting aside the minor details, they were broadly as follows:

First. Oracle is designated a ‘global public enemy’.

Second. Each nation will spare no effort in exchanging information related to Oracle.

Third. Any nation found to be cooperating with the Oracle will be considered an enemy of the world.

“Haa…”

With the conclusion settled, the ministers released a collective sigh.

The Empire had already caught their tail once. Unless they were utter fools, they wouldn’t make any immediate moves. Even so, the entire world would now react to any future pursuit of the Oracle.

And it was none other than the Empire that had orchestrated this reaction.

Erwin Barmut, Minister of Imperial Intelligence.

He had steered the world’s order under the Empire’s dominion.

It seemed unlikely this current would be broken anytime soon.

The first World Intelligence Ministers’ Conference concluded with each nation’s minister lamenting why they had to live alongside such a monstrous talent in their era.

—

Finally, I return home tomorrow.

In truth, it hasn’t even been that many days, but perhaps because of the conference and various other matters, it feels like it’s been ages.

It occurs to me anew. There’s truly no place like home.

When I retire, I shall simply barricade myself inside and never venture out.

Speaking of which, I’m starting to feel drowsy. I should sleep soon if I want to leave early in the morning.

And so, I was about to wash up and get into bed when suddenly, a knock sounded.

Who could that be?

“It’s Johanna.”

?

Why would the Saintess be at my door at this ungodly hour?

Incredibly puzzled, but thinking perhaps it was some urgent matter, I opened the door.

Saintess Pautz stood alone before me.

“What is it?”

“Well… would it be alright if I came in for a moment?”

She wants to come in?

Well, leaving a lady standing outside isn’t exactly polite.

Wait. Is inviting a young, unmarried woman into my room at night polite?

While I was debating which was the right course of action, Saintess Pautz nonchalantly stepped inside.

What even is this?

“Perhaps you should come and sit over here instead of just standing there?”

She padded inside, the Saintess Pauch perched on the bed, urging him to sit beside her.

So, what was this situation exactly?

He sat down, regardless.

But the Saintess, lips pressed tight, seemed more anxious fidget than inclined to actually speak.

“If you’ve nothing to say, I’d prefer you leave.”

“Ah, no. It’s not that I have nothing to say, it’s just… I’m a little nervous.”

“Nervous?”

*Why?* He wondered. Then, Saintess Pauch carefully slipped off the robe she was wearing.

Hidden beneath was a negligee, so sheer it was nearly transparent.

Pink, huh?

Doesn’t she feel cold, though?

Even if Phraus is a warm country, the nights can get pretty chilly.

“Even a Saintess can get cold, you know. If you wouldn’t mind, just for tonight, would you… hold me… *Gah?!*”

A woman in an owl mask, appearing from the shadows, grabbed Saintess Pauch by the throat and lifted her clear off the ground. The Saintess gasped for air.

…Even you, Christina, usually go for the dramatic dagger-to-the-throat, don’t you?